The mandate was implicitly obeyed.
"Take your cimeter! Fall upon it!"
Had the emir said, "Drink of this wine," there had not been less change in the Syrian's face. Not an eyelash quivered, nor did the lips twitch, when he held the keen blade at his breast and dashed himself upon the ground. A single spasm of the limbs, a red glow on the green sward,—that was all. Through all the great host standing under the torchlight there ran not so much as shiver or murmur.
"See, my children!" cried Iftikhar again, "this moment Masudi, your brother, sits down with the maids whose bodies are pure musk,—they who sit waiting by the stream of honey flowing from the root of the tree Tûba. Who else, at my summons, will take the journey thither?"
And the shout came back: "I!" and "I!" and "I!"; so all the three thousand cried it, and many sprang eagerly forward.
"No, my children," warned the emir, upraising his hand. "Allah and our lord on earth, the Cid Hassan Sabah, have need of you. Full soon shall you win all the glory and riches of this world, or the kiss of the houris! And now bear the poor dross of Masudi away, and think on his bliss."
As the eunuchs bore off the dead, Iftikhar spoke to Mary:—
"O Soul of my Soul, bethink you, here are three thousand of like mind to this man; and in the rest of Syria nine thousand more. With such a host we shall conquer the world—the world; and over it, you, my own, shall be sovereign sultana!"
"O Iftikhar," came from the Greek, "who am I to be thus worshipped!" The voice, the throb behind the voice,—the word "Iftikhar," not "master"—were they Mary's own? She felt herself snatched in a current she might not resist. Drifting, drifting, and she knew whither, yet in some strange way did not shrink. Why did the light flash still more brightly in Iftikhar's eyes? Why did his dark beauty become more splendid?
"Come!" was all he said. And in that word there rang a triumph, clearer than if sounded by trumpets. Her hand in his, he led her down the steps of the portico, all strewn with white bells of lilies, a carpet of blooming snow. At the foot of the stair a car which shone like a huge carbuncle; and harnessed to the car two lions, tame as oxen, yet tossing their shaggy manes, and their eyes twin coals of fire. Mary saw the beasts, but did not shrink. She looked upon the emir's face; in it confidence, pride,—and passion beyond words. How splendid he was! How one ought to worship this lord of men, to whom the lords of the beasts crouched submissive! How he had loved her with a love surpassing thought! She entered the car. They put in her hands reins of silken white ribbon. But Iftikhar himself stood at the heads of the lions, leading as if they were camels. Then he spoke: "Shine forth, O Moon, to the beautiful stars! Unveil!" And Mary, her hand answering his nod, swept the gauze from her face. In the same flash all the palace grounds shone with the red glare of Greek fire, so that the flambeaux made shadow; and Mary stood erect in the car, the light making her face bright and fair as the white cloud of summer. As she stood, she knew a tremor ran through the multitude and through the great lords on the portico; and a thousand voices were crying, not by forced acclaim, but out of their hearts: "Beauty of Allah! Fairest of the daughters of genii or men!" Such, and many more, the cries. Mary looked about; eyes past counting were on her. She held her head very proudly. Captive or queen, it was her triumph; and to Iftikhar she owed it all!